One Step Closer
by SparkleMouse
Summary: It was easier then. Before the lies and separation; before the truth and heartache. *Season 8 spoilers*


There's a chill in the air when she walks into the beach house, the brisk fall winds coming off the thundering waves. Kate stands in the foyer, dropping her overnight bag onto the floor. It's quiet; nothing but the sound of the ocean, the gentle hum of the refrigerator that she'll have to stock come morning. She leans against the front door and breathes deeply, inhaling the scent of her husband. Detergent and apple cinnamon candles, the ones she'd lit throughout the summer. He had whined about the scent that lingered on his clothes, in his hair.

" _You really want to keep complaining, Castle?"_ she'd murmured, undressing him slowly. _"Because I can stop_ …"But she never did finish those thoughts, not when he'd tackled her to the bed, their laughter filling the expanse of the bedroom.

It was easier then. Before the lies and separation; before the truth and heartache.

The tears burn her eyes and she pushes off the door. She's halfway to the stairs when she sees him in the shadows, a ghost underneath the glow of the pool lights.

"Castle?"

His spine stiffens, shoulders rolling back. She doesn't know what to expect, but she knows she shouldn't have come. This is his house and she's the one who broke his heart. She turns, ready to go, when she feels the pads of his fingers on her arm.

"You don't need to leave, Kate. It's your home too."

There's no trace of regret, yet he doesn't sound like the man she fell in love with, either. The one with so much childlike enjoyment; the one who pleaded with her to live. Her chest aches and she presses her hand between her breasts, doing her best to breathe.

"I thought you were in Boston this weekend."

"Not until Sunday."

One. Two. Three…

The beats of silence tick in her brain, each one tinged with increasing desperation. It's late, but if she leaves now, she'll get back to the city by one, two at the latest. So she heads for the kitchen again, ready to grab her duffle by the front door.

"Kate." The light from the refrigerator casts a blue glow over the room when she stops. "You should have told me."

She turns to look at him, and in the colored light, she sees the red of his eyes, the anger brewing. "I was trying to keep you safe, Rick."

The alcohol in his glass swishes from side to side, weaving waves of gold. His grasp on it is tight and she pictures scenarios of jagged edges and blood, unsure if she means the tumbler or their cracked hearts.

"We've been through this before." Castle takes a controlled sip, slams it down on the counter with more force than intended. "Four years ago, you chose me. Two years ago, we solved your mother's case _together._ You should have trusted me, Kate. After everything, you at least owed me that." He finishes his drink in one swallow. "I'll head back to the city. You can have the place for the weekend."

He walks past her and she grabs him, wrapping an arm around his neck, her forehead resting against his. The heat of his breath - oaky from the scotch - washes over her in small pants, so similar to that night she first came to him. His grip around her waist tightens and she closes her eyes, letting the tears come once more.

"I'm so sorry, Castle." It slips out, broken, and the déjà vu is like a sucker punch. "This wasn't about solving another case-"

"Beckett, come on. Of course it was."

Kate takes a step back. The warmth from his touch is gone, replaced with the cold from the still open door, from the realization of all she might lose. "It's my fault they died. McCord. Hendricks. I couldn't let that go, but I couldn't risk your life in the process."

"So, you decided to leave me? To lie to me _again_? When does it end? When do the cases stop taking precedence over our marriage?" He steadies himself, fingers flexing. "The heater is on in the pool. You should relax. You look exhausted." He brushes his knuckles over her shoulder. "Beautiful, but exhausted."

"Castle. Please don't give up on me."

To her surprise, he locks their fingers together, pulling her into an embrace. She rocks back, unsteady on her feet, and then she's in his arms, swaying to the melody of the ocean. "It's hard to trust you right now. I'm so angry that nothing has changed. But that doesn't mean I don't love you, that I won't always love you. You and me, we're in this together. We'll get through this."

The air rushes out of her, relief filling her lungs. "I've missed you. I've missed this."

"Dancing in the kitchen in the middle of the night?"

"Among other things." She brings their joined hands to his heart, feels the calming beat. "You say nothing has changed, but you're wrong. I should have told you. I know that now. But Castle, everything has changed. If I lost you to this, if this…drive cost you your life, I would never get over that. It might have been wrong, but I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

"It still doesn't excuse the lies." He stops moving for a second, lacing his fingers through her hair. "Promise me, Beckett. Never again."

"Never again," she promises. Their feet are moving again, sliding along the floor in their socks, uncoordinated and free. "Spend the weekend with me?"

He bends down, pressing his lips to hers. It tastes like hope, like forgiveness. "You know, the heater is still on in the pool."

"I don't have a swimsuit."

"Like that's ever stopped you."

"Later," she murmurs, resting her head on his shoulder as they sway. "Just stay here like this for a little while longer."

This thing between them isn't perfect, it's not fixed, but it's one step closer.

* * *

 _This was written before the winter finale aired, so any similarities are purely coincidental. Thoughts and comments always appreciated!_


End file.
